Heirlooms
by Loridhhp
Summary: A tragedy brings unexpected healing as Lorelai discovers her past. Sometimes the most treasured heirlooms aren't the ones we can hold in our hands, but in our hearts.


**Here's a little oneshot I was inspired to write while listening to Amy Grant's song "Heirlooms".Yes, it is very angsty but it has a hopeful ending, as my stories do. Please let me know how you like this. Reviews inspire me to be creative. I haven't begun chapter 16 of "A Mother's Love" yet because I'm waiting to find out if I will continue to have electricity. I will write it and post it as soon as I can and I promise it will be worth the wait. Thank you so much to everyone who reads and reviews my stories. You all rock!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing! Amy Sherman-Palladino does and she's so lucky!**

**Heirlooms**

It was snowing, the kind of magical snow that Lorelai loved so much. Flakes of white drifted gently, covering the ground. Lorelai stood at a fresh grave watching the snow cover the dirt that was filled in over a week ago and now lay as a frozen testament to the lives it now contained. She sighed, her breath filling the air with a cloud of vapor. She reached out a gloved hand and wiped the top of the headstone of the two inches of fresh powder that had accumulated.

Normally, Lorelai loved the snow. It symbolized all that was good in her life. It brought memories of sleigh rides, sledding and snowman building with Rory. It symbolized the playful innocence of youth and exuberance for life. Yes, Lorelai loved the snow. Today, that all changed. Today snow brought only bittersweet memories, floating wistfully through her mind, like the flakes swirling around her. There was no joy in the snow today.

She didn't understand how her life could be irrevocably changed in an instant. It was snow's fault. Snow. The one pleasant connection she had to childhood turned on her, taking away her parents forever and leaving her with the painful scars of an unresolved past. Now her parents resided here, beneath her feet. The irony of it all was not lost on Lorelai. She always felt as if she were beneath her parents, that they treated her as inferior, and with less respect, since she had made the choice to follow her own path in life as a teenager. Now they were beneath her. She should have felt a kind of smug satisfaction in the irony, but instead she felt empty. There was no joy in the ultimate mockery of her parents.

Her parents' wishes were to be buried in the family mausoleum, but fighting among the Gilmore relatives over who was entitled to the precious remaining spots caused such a row that Lorelai decided to just bury her parents separately in the cemetery. She was so tired of fighting with family members! So she interred her parents' remains in a humble grave. She went through great pains to find a location suitable for them and settled on one under the shelter of a huge maple tree in a pristine section of the cemetery. The views from the hilltop gravesite were beautiful, especially in the west where the sitting sun brought solace and comfort.

Lorelai placed fresh roses in the cup that was unceremoniously stuck into the hard earth next to the headstone. In the spring, she would plant rose bushes on both sides of the headstone. It was the least she could do for her mother who loved tending her garden. Emily loved flowers and her home was always accented with fresh floral arrangements, some from her garden, some delivered by the local florist. Lorelai gazed at the red buds, now covered with a fine layer of downy flakes, her eyes misting over. She blinked to clear her vision. How unfair it was of snow to try to reconcile itself with her by creating such beauty! The red blooms, in contrast to the white snow, reminded her that Christmas was just around the corner. There would be no more annual Christmas parties at her parents' house and no more apple tarts to hoard like delicious little treasures.

Lorelai shivered in the cold, drawing her coat tighter and wrapping her arms around herself. Inside she felt as numb as her fingers and toes did. Since the car accident, caused by the lethal combination of black ice and fresh snowfall, that had taken her parents lives, she had been on auto pilot. She didn't cry. She didn't know why. Rory cried enough tears for the both of them it seemed. She didn't know what to feel. Her parents' had shown Rory more love and affection than they ever showed her. She understood her daughter's grief, but still felt a pang of envy. Why couldn't her parents show her that kind of love?

Rory had taken time from the Barack Obama campaign trail to come home for the funeral. Since it was so close to the holidays, Rory decided to take vacation time and spend it with her family. Lorelai was glad to have her around. She missed her daughter so much since she graduated Yale and began her life as a fledgling journalist. As much as she found comfort in having Rory around, she wanted to be alone today. Today was the day that Lorelai decided to begin sorting through her parents' things and organizing them for storage.

The snow crunched under her boots, as Lorelai turned and made her way back to the Jeep. She opened the door and climbed in, hitting her boots against the edge of the door to remove the excess snow. The last thing she wanted was to become a casualty herself because her foot slipped on the gas pedal! The drive to her parents' house was short, but she still used extra care due to the weather. She pulled into the gates of the Gilmore property and parked in the driveway in front of the house. She turned off the ignition and sat for a moment, looking up at the imposing residence that had once been her home. With a sigh, she gathered her purse and keys and headed for the front door.

Lorelai searched her key ring for the house key her mother gave her in case of emergency years ago. It felt strange to just enter instead of ringing the bell. Once inside, Lorelai quickly pulled off her wet boots and placed them in the bin her mother had set in the foyer. She shook her head, smiling slightly. Her mother was no longer around to scold her for getting the floor wet, yet she still found herself caught up in her mother's expectations. After hanging up her coat in the closet, she entered the living room.

Everything looked normal, as if the house itself was waiting for its occupants to arrive home from an evening of holiday revelry. In the corner stood a huge eight-foot tall Christmas tree, decorated in the kind of splendor only Emily Gilmore could achieve. Lorelai flipped the light switch on the wall and the tree burst into its full magnificence. Lorelai gasped in amazement as lights twinkled and sparkled, highlighting the exquisite ornaments that Emily had been collecting from all over the world. As a child, Lorelai could only look at those things of beauty. She was never allowed to touch them. Now they were hers, left to her by her mother. She remembered a time, long ago, when her mother pulled out the boxes of carefully wrapped ornaments.

"_Mommy, can I help decorate the tree," an excited Lorelai crowed, bouncing on the balls of her feet._

"_You can help your father string the lights, but these ornaments are much too delicate," Emily said, carefully unwrapping a pair of tiny bisque white doves._

"_I'll be careful, I promise," Lorelai pleaded. "I just want to help you put them on the tree."_

"_Very well," Emily said, giving in. "If you promise to be very careful, you can hang them as I unwrap them. I will tell you where to put them."_

_Emily told Lorelai the story behind each ornament as she unwrapped it and handed it to her daughter. There were ornaments handed down to her mother from her own mother, ornaments Emily acquired since her own childhood, ones that Richard had given her. Each ornament was special and Lorelai was caught up in the magic they seemed to provide. At Christmas, her parents were nicer and more tolerant. There was the annual Christmas party her parents threw every year. It was her favorite time of the year… until that year._

_The ornament hit the floor with a crash, as delicate blown glass shattered._

"_Lorelai Victoria Gilmore," Emily shrieked, grabbing her daughter by the arm. "I told you to be careful! Look what you've done! That ornament was handed down from my grandmother and now it's completely destroyed!"_

"_I'm sorry Mommy," Lorelai said brokenly. "I didn't mean it. It slipped."_

"_Go to your room this instant, young lady," Emily snapped, pointing toward the stairs._

"_But Mommy," Lorelai begged. "Please! I want to help you."_

"_I said go to your room!" Emily barked for the maid to come clean up the mess._

_Lorelai burst into tears and ran upstairs, never to be allowed to decorate the tree again._

Lorelai gently fingered one of the delicate ornaments. She had always loved them so much as a child, until that Christmas. After that, they became a source of pain, of failing to keep her promise to her mother, of once again being a disappointment to her. She decided to look in the basement for the boxes to pack the ornaments in. There would be no Christmas celebration this year, and she didn't want her kleptomaniac cousin Marilyn to pilfer any of her mother's precious heirlooms.

The basement was filled with furniture Lorelai could only assume her mother didn't like but didn't have the heart to discard. She did however notice that all the gifts Gran had given her were piled in a corner, away from everything. Lorelai looked around and spotted the boxes her mother packed her Christmas ornaments in. She was about to start bringing them upstairs to the living room but something else caught her eye. She opened a box marked 'Lorelai' in Emily's neat handwriting.

Inside the box were typical items any mother would collect, a pile of neatly folded infant clothes, tiny pairs of shoes, a few baby toys. On the bottom of the box was her baby book. She didn't recall ever seeing it. She just assumed her mother didn't make one for her. She made sure that Rory had a baby book to mark those precious moments of her early life. She set the book aside and searched some more. In another box, she found photos that she somehow missed burning in the fireplace because her mother constantly told her she had a big head. Lorelai looked over the photos, surprised that they weren't all posed. Her little girl self actually appeared to be enjoying her life and even interacting with her parents.

Lorelai carried the baby book upstairs. She found herself wandering around the much too quiet house. Her old bedroom brought back memories of those painful years of her youth. She didn't expect her parents to understand her, but she hoped they would allow her to make her own decisions in life. When that didn't happen, she had no choice but to leave and find her own way. She sat on her old bed and opened the baby book. Her mother meticulously noted all the events of her babyhood. There were photos attached to each page, even a lock of baby fine dark hair, a little curl. She smiled wistfully, remembering how she put a remnant of Rory's first haircut in her baby book too. She read the entries her mother had written in her neat penmanship.

_April 18, 1968: Our beautiful daughter Lorelai Victoria Gilmore was born, weighing 7 lbs 4oz and 21inches long. She is an angel, from her blue eyes, so much like my own Richard says, to her head of dark fuzz. She is perfect and we are so blessed._

_June 12, 1968: Lorelai smiled for the first time today! It wasn't one of those fake smiles either and it most certainly wasn't gas! Her little face lit up as she gave me a toothless smile. I wanted to just hug her to pieces! Richard missed it, as he was away on business again. _

_August 25, 1968: Lorelai ate her first cereal today, or should I say I wore most of it!_

_September 16, 1968: Lorelai has discovered how to roll and takes great pleasure in flipping from her back to her stomach and on to her back again. She giggles like she'd discovered the greatest trick. I never tire of watching her antics. She's so funny!_

_November I, 1968: Lorelai sat independently for the first time. After a few minutes, she promptly fell forward onto her face on the blanket I'd placed her on and laughed. The child thought it was funny! Her baby laughter brings such joy to the lonely days when Richard is away on business._

_December 25, 1968: Lorelai's first Christmas. She sat in her playpen, since she is now crawling and putting everything in her mouth, and watched me place the ornament I'd bought to mark her first Christmas on the tree. She was mesmerized by the twinkling lights. She looks like a princess in her frilly dress and little black patent leather shoes. Her hair is beginning to curl into ringlets. She is such a happy baby!_

Lorelai had to stop reading. She was beginning to feel sad. This wasn't the Emily Gilmore she knew. This mother adored her baby and took great pains in writing down everything. Her first tooth, first words, first steps, were all lovingly memorialized on paper. Lorelai stood up and left her old bedroom, taking her baby book with her.

She crossed the hall to her parents' room, opened the door, and entered. It felt odd being in there. She set the baby book down on her mother's nightstand so she could begin to pack up her parents' valuables for safe keeping. In setting the book down, she accidentally knocked an empty water glass off the nightstand. It fell on the floor and rolled under the bed. She groaned and got on her hands and knees to retrieve the wayward glass. She spotted the glass and something else. She pulled a small laptop writing desk out from under the bed and laid it on the bed. It was covered in a layer of dust as if it hadn't been used in a very long time.

Lorelai opened the box and noticed it contained a writing tablet and a bunch of letters, sealed in envelopes and addressed to her at the Independence Inn. She used her mother's letter opener and began to read each letter. They were written during the time her father said her mother couldn't leave her bed, when she took Rory and left home at the age of seventeen. Why didn't she mail them? They obviously found out where she was staying, and yet they didn't try to force her to come home. Lorelai could feel a lump forming in her throat as she read each letter. In them her mother wrote of her anger at losing her. Lorelai had expected that. In most of them, her mother begged her to come home. In others she read of her mother's loneliness and loss, the pain so very evident in the words her mother had written.

When she finished reading all the letters, Lorelai could feel her own sense of loss hitting her like a wrecking ball to the gut. Here she had expected to just pack up her parents lives, not rediscover the one she'd left behind. All these years she thought her mother didn't care. Her father wasn't around as much, but in recent years he opened up and they became closer, at least he expressed his pride in her. Her mother, on the other hand, could lavish Rory with hugs and love but not her. That hurt more than she would ever admit to anyone.

Lorelai took the letters and the baby book and went back downstairs. She placed the items on the dining room table and went down to the basement to bring up the Christmas boxes. Several trips later, she had all the boxes stacked in the living room and set about undecorating the tree. She didn't feel very much like celebrating this year anyway. She gently removed each ornament and carefully packed it in its respective box. When she reached the bottom of the tree, she noticed a small flat box, wrapped in Christmas paper and ribbon. There was a card attached with her name on it. Apparently, her mother had already begun her Christmas shopping.

She decided to open the card and keep the gift to open Christmas morning. In the card was a letter. Lorelai sat on the carpet in front of the tree and read the letter.

_Dear Lorelai,_

_I realize it's Christmas, but I suppose that Christmas is the perfect time for unexpressed sentiment. I know that you have been missing Rory, now that she is truly on her own and making a life for herself. I miss her too. You have done a tremendous job raising her. She is a woman we all can be proud of, a Gilmore through and through. You did that all on your own and I never once gave you credit for the amazing job you did. I guess I was jealous of the bond you both share, a bond I never could imagine sharing with my own mother, a bond I wished I had with you._

_As you know all too well, I'm not one to mince words. I usually say what I need to say, whatever the consequences. Despite my verbal proficiency, I find it extremely hard to say these words to you. I suppose it's like you've said before…the fear of rejection. So I will write them down. You already are well aware of your father's and my disappointment in your choice to leave home as a teenager. I feel that to bring it up once again would be futile. I can see you rolling your eyes as you read this, so I will not reiterate transgressions of the past. I am ready to let it all go and start anew._

_I can not change the past, nor can I forget it. We both made mistakes. My biggest regret is that I didn't let go of my anger and I continued to hurt you by not listening, or rather ignoring your pleas for understanding. Yes, I did actually listen all those times you tried to tell me what a horrible mother I was. I just didn't want to admit the truth in your words, or give up my pride. I wanted to hurt you the way you hurt me and that was so wrong._

_So I am writing to you now to undo some of the damage my pride has cause the both of us. I am so sorry for not being more supportive and for driving you away. Your leaving home was devastating. I never thought I could feel such pain, such overwhelming loss. I missed you terribly Lorelai. I know you probably don't believe that, but it's true. I know I haven't told you before, but I do love you Lorelai, more than you can imagine. You are my only child and I am so proud of you. Your life may not be perfect, but you are loved and respected in your little town. You own your own business and are doing well._

_I know our relationship could never be what you and Rory share, but I wanted you to know that I have always loved you, even when you broke my heart into a thousand pieces. I would give my life for you! I hope that we can have a better relationship from now on. I promise to listen and not judge you. I will also make a point to be demonstrative, as I am with Rory. I saw the look on your face when I praised her, embraced her and told her I loved her before she left home. I recognize that sadness. I've carried it in my heart for far too long._

_So let this Christmas be a time for healing for us, a fresh start to an improved relationship. Merry Christmas Lorelai._

_With all my love,_

_Mom_

_P.S. I know you've been admiring my ornaments all your life. I have accumulated many more than I can fit on a Christmas tree. I am leaving them to you in my will, but you can begin collecting some of them now. I hope you will cherish these precious heirlooms from my past as much as I do. _

Lorelai dropped the pages of the letter on the carpet, as her suppressed grief exploded from her in a torrent of tears_. _Her mother did love her! She wanted them to be closer and now it was too late. She was gone from her life for good. Both of her parents were gone, leaving her with only their memories. She wept inconsolably for a long time and didn't even hear the front door open. The next thing she knew, Rory was wrapping her arms around her as they both cried.

Rory inquired as to the source of Lorelai's devastation and Lorelai could only point to the letter. Rory picked it up and read it as her mother sobbed on her shoulder. Now she understood her mother's tears. This was more than grief. It was release from the pain that consumed her mother for so many years, and it was too late to celebrate that release. Rory looked over at the Christmas tree with its twinkling lights and wiped her eyes. Maybe now her mother could find peace. She hoped her grandparents did. Only time would tell.


End file.
